Читать книгу The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V - Marshall Pinckney Wilder - Страница 12

The captain that walks the quarter-deck

        Is the monarch of the sea;

But every day, when I'm on my dray,

        I'm as big a monarch as he.

For the car must slack when I'm on the track,

        And the gripman's face gets blue,

As he holds her back till his muscles crack,

        And he shouts, "Hey, hey! Say, you!

Get out of the way with that dray!" "I won't!"

        "Get out of the way, I say!"

But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track,

        And I won't get out of the way.

When a gaudy carriage bowls along,

        With a coachman perched on high,

Solemn and fat, a cockade in his hat,

        Just like a big blue fly,

I swing my leaders across the road,

        And put a stop to his jaunt,

And the ladies cry, "John, John, drive on!"

        And I laugh when he says "I caun't."

Oh, life to me is a big picnic,

        From the rise to the set of sun!

The swells that ride in their fancy drags

        Don't begin to have my fun.

I'm king of the road, though I wear no crown,

        As I leisurely move along,

For I own the streets, and I hold them down,

        And I love to hear this song:

"Get out of the way with your dray!" "I won't!"

        "Get out of the way, I say!"

But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track,

        And I don't get out of the way.